Because I have to get into a rhythm of writing, I am forcing myself (once again) to improvise, whether related or not. It doesn’t matter. The point is simply to instill the discipline, first and foremost. (Right?) I understand that. And yet, here I am, leaving another incomplete post in my drafts folder while reverting back to this exasperating cycle of saying nothing (in so many words).

I’ve made time, every day this past week, to sit down and write, even if I only produced a few lines. I wanted to be prepared, d@mmit! And yet… nothing. I seemed to stumble on the same roadblock every time, getting caught up in revisions upon revisions until the topic was exhausted, incoherent, and useless. I even tried to comfort myself by saying, “I’ts okay dude. This is part of the learning curve.” Only to retort, somewhat quizzically, “Whatever, dude!” (as I made rude gestures into the mirror).

I know better. Write first. Think later. That’s the trick. But it’s exactly the thinking/revising that restrains me. That’s where my technical and creative sides collide in all-out war without prisoners. One part of me wants to inspire with sincerity and depth, while the other wants to woo you with poetic devices, even if you don’t understand what the hell I’m saying. And… perhaps you don’t have to.